


Albatross feathers

by Indigomountain



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blood and Injury, Fishing, Harpies, Light Angst, M/M, Teasing, Wing Grooming, Wing Oil, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:33:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24208267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Indigomountain/pseuds/Indigomountain
Summary: A young Albatross-winged Harpy could go months or even years without ever even touching land if they were on a pilgrimage.If they didn't have a hole in their wing that is...
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 23
Kudos: 200
Collections: Stuckony Server Bingo Collection





	Albatross feathers

**Author's Note:**

> thanks to KieranIsHiding for Betaing.   
> This is for the F5 square (wingfic) of the FUCKIN' bingo on the Stuckony discord server.

Harpies are said to be a lot of things, like greedy, deceitful, and dangerous. Not that any of that was true but if a small human child went missing in a rural town someone would still claim the raptor seen flying high was actually a Harpy that had swooped down and stolen the babe. It was all small-town hysteria of course -- what would a harpy do with a human child? 

But that kind of pervasive attitude made them unwelcome and ostracized among humans all the same, just as most other species tended to be. Humans on a whole seemed to be disinclined to like things that were different. 

Not that harpies were interested in being around humans. Albatross-winged Harpies even less so than other harpy species -- a young Albatross could go months or even years without ever even touching land if they were on a pilgrimage. 

If they didn't have a hole in their wing that is... 

It was almost impossible to fly when all the air was blowing through a bloody hole instead of catching the cup of his wing and lifting him up. 

Tony had been trying to keep himself afloat on the turbulent seas, but it was choppy water and he was having trouble keeping even against the horizon. If his wings got soaked then that would be the end of him, the weight of the water would drag him down to the deep and the Oceanids would welcome him with open arms and sharp teeth. 

Honestly he was surprised a predator hadn't come along yet considering the fat drops of blood that were running down his wing. The wound was trying to stop bleeding, the blood was clotting and sticking all his feathers together uncomfortably, but the sea spray was washing any would-be scabs back into the water. Tony didn’t want to look and see how bad the damage was. Didn’t want to think about what that actually meant for him and his future. 

If he had one.

Tony was wondering how much longer he would actually be able to keep treading water like this with his wings slowly soaking up more and more water, when his salvation came to him from over a wave. A human’s boat! He could just make out the small vessel’s silhouette through the light of the setting sun. Tony might end up being exhausted by the time he made it there, but he reasoned he could sprawl flat against the deck as long as he liked.

By the time he finally touched his fingers to the boat's ladder the sun had long since set, but it seemed Poseidon had been smiling on him because the ship was headed towards him and the ocean hadn’t pulled him ever farther away. Tony hung off the rungs of the ladder for a good long while, too tired to even pull himself up. The waves lapped against his sides and up against his wings but it didn’t incite the terror it had even moments ago. He wasn’t going to sink, his arms were firmly locked around this ladder and after he caught his breath and mustered a bit of strength he would climb to safety. 

Any minute now…

Tony woke with a jolt when a frigid wave crashed against his back, pushing him forward against the ladder. His head connected with the metal, making both of them ring. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep -- but then he also hadn’t meant to get shot out of the sky during his escape, some things just couldn’t be helped. 

With a steadying breath, he took hold of the next rung with cold-numbed fingers and tried to pull himself up -- but Tony had no strength left, and he couldn’t keep his grip. He slipped a little further into the water before he caught himself. 

Never one to be deterred, he hooked his elbow through the rung and pulled himself in close, then through the next. By the time he was finally, blessedly at the top, he was sweaty and panting, every muscle was screaming out from the exertion. And to make it all the better, he could feel his wound oozing again, ripped open as he tried to balance himself against the rocking of the boat.

Tony was sure he had never felt anything so glorious as the moment he hit flat wood and could relax all of his muscles. There was no chance someone would come to drag him back from here -- no chance he would be taken back there. They probably thought he was dead. Hell, he should have been dead with the way he fell out of the sky, with the way he hit the water. But that was ok, because it meant there was no one out there looking for him. Actually, there probably was... but they would be looking to recover a body. He was finally free of them. 

After a good long while of just basking in his new freedom, Tony tried to stretch his bad wing out but it wouldn’t unfurl all the way. He decided it didn’t matter, he would deal with that later. Right now he was just happy to catch his breath and dry off from the water that he had been soaking in for so long. Tony mourned the waterproofing that he had lost in his months of captivity. It would take forever to get his wings set to rights -- and that wasn’t even considering the state his left wing was in. Whether he would ever-

He lifted his good wing to shake out the water, flapping it gently in the vain hope of mitigating the worst of the damage to his unprotected feathers from the harsh salt water. They would be a fluffy mess filled with little knots in the down that would probably have to be pulled out. 

Tony’s heart dropped into his stomach when he heard something metal crash to the deck floor, the breeze created from his beating wings was enough to topple it over. He held his breath, listening for any sign that the owner of the boat had heard and was coming to investigate. He used the railing to lever himself up -- when the human came he would have to be ready to fight or flee.

The water was a death sentence, so there was really only one option.

~~~

Steve awoke to the sound of something clattering above the deck. It wouldn't have set off any alarm bells two months ago, but he wasn't on a large ship with a full crew anymore. He was on a fishing trawler that he owned free and clear, a boat he worked  _ alone _ . So what the  _ fuck  _ was that? 

He shoved his feet into a pair of boots, not bothering to find socks. A sweater was wrestled over his head as he made his way up to check it out. He grabbed his metal tipped fish bat, wishing he had something better than the fourteen inch baton. Steve knew he was being paranoid -- it was probably just a seabird looking for an easy meal or somewhere to rest a while. He was well off shore after all, and it wasn’t like there was anything on board that was worth much of anything except maybe the actual fish. 

Steve could hear shuffling and some flapping and for a moment he managed to convince himself that it really was a seabird. Then he heard someone curse... 

That was no bird.

Adrenalin pumping, he stepped onto the deck. The moon was bright enough that he could see a form against the railing, the silhouette was strangely asymmetric. 

~~~

Tony tried to look big but he could only lift one wing, the other hung at an awkward angle away from his body dragged down by its own weight. His back was on fire from the angle the wing was hanging but he couldn’t actually move it at all. He hoped on top of everything else it didn’t dislocate from its own weight. 

He was obviously not intimidating enough, because the human kept creeping forward with his wooden bat, no matter how much Tony ruffled his feathers and hissed. He tried to take a swipe at the man, but he stumbled without the railing. 

He was feeling cornered. Well, he  _ was _ cornered… with no way to escape and nowhere to hide. Why had he thought he would be safe here?

“Get back!” He bared his teeth to show how sharp they were, how willing to bite he was. Tony wondered if he’d even get a chance to sink his teeth in before he was totally overpowered by this giant of a man. Would he be killed? Taken back to shore and turned over to some other scientist that wanted to keep him in a little cage? Or maybe he would just be thrown back into the ocean to drown... 

~~~

The Harpy -- because that is what he was -- had his good wing hooded over his shoulder in that wounded-bird sort of body language that said ‘I am freaking out so back the fuck off’. The other one was trailing along the deck. The poor guy had to be in agony to let it drag on the ground like that. Harpies were ridiculously proud of their wings from what he’d heard of them. They were said to value nothing higher, and as such kept them in immaculate condition. To see one in such a sorry state meant something terrible had to have happened to him. 

“Hey, it’s ok. Look I’m putting down the bat. Let’s just calm down,” He didn’t take his eyes off the Harpy, but he heard the sound of his bat clattering down the steps he’d just come from. When the Harpy still didn’t relax, he sat down right there in the middle of the deck, Steve was hoping to show that he meant no harm, “See, I’m down here and you’re up there. We’ll get through this. So let's breathe and calm down a little.”

“I feel as if I am the correct amount of calm,” The Harpy swayed on his feet -- he looked just about ready to pass out -- but he still tried to raise his left wing higher in a bid to appear more threatening. Steve was more concerned than scared. 

If he could get the Harpy to trust him, he could take a look at his wing. Steve was no doctor, but he had nursed his fair share of birds back to health as a child. His mother would always shake her head with a fond smile and say he had a soft heart. 

“I don't know how to appear any less threatening…”

The harpy shuffled a little further away, hanging onto the railing for dear life, Steve suspected it was the only thing keeping him standing. 

“Well, considering you are an absolute mountain of muscle in human form, some kind of demigod of shitty fishing boats… you could jump over board? That would be very non threatening.” 

Steve didn’t even hesitate. 

~~~

Tony had to blink. One second the blond Adonis was sitting in front of him, the next he was gone and there was the splash of a body hitting the water. He turned to watch the water, amazed and confused by what he’d just seen. Tony realized all at once, oh -- the human was just an idiot.

“So, I am now sopping wet and freezing cold. Is that non threatening enough for you?” The man was resting his chin on his hands, balancing on the ladder. 

“I hope so…” Tony hoped like hell he wasn’t making a mistake here and this wasn’t the dumbest (and last) mistake of his life.

Mistake or not, he couldn’t physically stand any longer. He dropped to his knees hard. Before he had a chance to tip forward, a pair of very cold, wet hands took a careful hold of his elbows. 

“Easy there, can we go down below so I can take a look at your wing?” 

“I don’t think so. Not sure I'll be standing again any time soon," As far as Tony could tell, his wing was the only major injury he sustained from his daring escape, but he was completely drained. All of his reserves had run dry.

“What if I carried you?”

“You can do whatever you want,” Tony wasn’t sure this guy knew what he was getting himself into, his wings were still pretty waterlogged, as much as he had tried to avoid that. He was already heavy with a twenty-five foot wingspan -- add in the water weight and it wasn’t going to happen. Tony would be more than happy to pass out right here on this nice hard-wood deck. 

“Alright then, hold on tight,” Tony had just a moment to think  _ ‘Wait, what?’  _ before he felt his knees come up off the ground. His front was pressed up against Adonis’ back and if his shirt wasn't damp before, it sure was now. A new wave of cold worked its way through him as Hercules stole all of his remaining body heat.

“Whoa, ok muscles. A little warning would be nice. A how-do-you-do? Hi, my name is-”

“Oh shit, I'm sorry. It's Steve. My name, that is.”

“Well, aren’t you eloquent Steve.”

“I’m just trying to help. You don’t have to be so snarky about it.” 

“A complete stranger lifting me off my feet while I am already injured and have no means of escape. Now why ever would I be on the defensive?” Tony hissed through his teeth.

Okay, so he was more than a little on edge. But could you really blame him? He thought he was dealing with the situation very well, not biting or scratching or anything. All he had left were his words. 

And now he was being carried into a cabin below deck on a human ship. This was just not his day. (Okay so it was still better than yesterday, but that wasn’t saying much. It was hard to be worse than captivity.) 

“Fine, be as caustic as you like if it’ll make you feel better,” Steve seemed to shrug off Tony’s attitude easily enough, “Can I at least have your name, or is that something you’d like to keep to yourself along with your manners?” 

“It’s Tony, you nosy bastard,” He pulled his good wing in as tight as he could. He could barely move the other one, but Steve was kind enough to compensate for it, keeping as far to the right wall as he could to keep from bumping his wing at all.

“Thank you. Was that so hard?” Steve asked cheekily. 

“Like pulling fingernails,” Tony hissed back, in no mood for Mr. Congeniality and his bullshit. 

~~~

There was a very derisive Harpy on his back, and Steve was wondering how he always got into situations like this. If Bucky were here, he would say it was because he attracted any trouble within a thousand miles. This was just more proof. 

He knelt next to his bed, waiting for Tony to get his feet under him. Once he was settled more or less on his own two feet, Steve helped him get comfortable with his torso resting on the bed so they could stretch his injured wing out.

Looking at the wound, Steve worried that it was beyond him. There was a hole big enough to stick his entire arm through -- the only good news was it missed the bone, and as far as he could tell none of the tendons were visible. He didn’t let how unqualified he felt get the better of him though. At the very least, he could clean it out and wrap the wing so it wouldn’t move and agitate the wound any further.

“I’ll be right back, I'm going to grab my first aid kit," Steve had never been more glad that Bucky was a worrier and got him one of those high-end paramedic first-aid kits as a 'boat-warming present'. At the time, he'd rolled his eyes but now he was eating crow… pardon the expression. 

"Just rest here. Would you like some water? Something to eat?”

“Yes. Yes to all of that,” Tony was completely limp, too fatigued to even bother with his snark anymore apparently. The slow, even breaths were very reassuring in that moment. 

“Okay, I hope you like fish?” 

~~~

He wanted to stay alert, but every time he blinked, his eyes got a little heavier. It felt like Steve was gone for hours, but really he had no idea how long it could have been. He was floating in some kind of in-between, not quite asleep, but he was so bone tired that he couldn't keep his concentration any more. 

Between one blink and another, there was a piece of grilled fish in front of his face. Tony could smell the seasoning on it, humans always made things so much more complicated than they had to be. What was wrong with a simple, freshly-killed fish? He didn’t really care right now though, just happy that Steve had done him the courtesy of deboning it for him. 

Tony would have liked to say he ate daintily, but that would be a lie -- the weirdly hot fish was gone in just a few short bites and he could feel where it burned all the way down. It was only then that he realized there was a quiet voice narrating as Steve cleaned out his wound. He must have sprayed a local anesthetic because it was marvelously numb, he hadn’t even realized the man was there. 

“The hole’s too big to stitch shut, but I’m going to pack the wound and bind the wing with gauze. I once saw an osprey that crashed into a tree and impaled itself on a branch. A couple weeks of rest and he was good as new,” Tony didn’t even care if it was true. He would take the hope right now, false or otherwise. 

~~~

It wasn’t the worst wound Steve had ever seen, but it was going to be a hard thing to heal from. He really hoped the harpy would be able to fly again. He couldn’t think of a worse fate for a creature of the air than to be grounded for the rest of its life. 

When he looked up from his work, he found that Tony was asleep. The fish was gone, so he’d at least gotten some food into him. He wished Tony had been able to hold out a little longer so he could give him something else for the pain, but he wasn’t going to wake him up. Instead, he very carefully shifted the harpy until Tony was laid out on the bed properly. 

Steve spent another minute rearranging Tony’s good wing so it didn’t hang off the bed -- almost impossible considering the length of it. Now that he had a moment to look, Steve took in the sheer size of this harpy’s wings. They were thinner than that of the inland birds he was used to, relative to their size, but the length was incredible. Each wing was  _ easily  _ ten feet across, maybe more. Tony definitely had the wings of some sort of seabird, between the color and the shape. He fussed with the blankets for a while before he couldn't justify it anymore, and left Tony to sleep.

He puttered around in the galley for a time, but it was a tiny kitchen for a tiny ship, so he ran out of things to clean rather quickly. With a sigh, Steve grabbed an extra blanket from the closet and laid it out on his bedroom floor. He didn't want to actually sleep in case Tony woke up and needed something, but he could rest, close his eyes and let the rocking of the ship calm his mind.

~~~

Tony woke with the sun, which was shining quite rudely in his face. He wanted nothing more than to shift down out of the sunbeam and keep on sleeping while he could, but when he tried, he nearly fell off the platform he was resting on. He clutched at it for dear life, trying to figure out where he was and why he had fallen asleep in this unfamiliar place. Had he been drugged again? 

No. He was free.

This was a human boat. Steve’s boat. Steve the stupid human who jumped off his own boat wouldn’t hurt him.

He released his death grip on the sheets, a little worried that he would rip them with the talons that he hadn’t been able to trim in months. He didn’t need any reason for Steve to be angry. He would need the man’s good will, at least until his wing was healed. He shuffled back up the human’s bed, disliking the feeling of his feet hanging over the side. 

Tony wondered where Steve was sleeping, if Tony was in his bed. This boat didn't look big enough to have another bedroom. 

“You’re awake!” The ball of positivity that was Steve Rogers said from very close. Tony nearly jumped out of his skin. 

Tony looked down over the side of the bed and there the stupid human was, laying on the floor because he had given his bed to a harpy that had snuck onto his ship. 

“You are much too loud for this hour of the morning,” Tony would love to just close his eyes again, but the sunlight was not going to let him fall back to sleep. He tried to block it out with his wing anyway.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to be so loud. Let me get you a drink, and some extra strength Tylenol. Wish I had something stronger for you,” Steve raised his shoulder in a shrug as if to say ‘what can you do’. 

“Yes to both,” His head and wing were pounding in time with his pulse -- there was nothing he would like more right now than something to take the edge off. 

~~~

Tony was awake and aware of his surroundings, both great things. The fact that he was lucid enough to hold even a small conversation told Steve the harpy wasn’t as bad off as he had feared. 

He decided to grab a bowl of water and a cloth as well as Tony’s glass. His wings looked like they could use some cleaning, if Tony would let him help. When Steve came back, he had to keep from laughing because there was Tony, with one fluffy wing thrown over his head, doing his best to block out the world.

“Here’s your water. Do you want to try sitting up?”

Tony peeked out from over his wing, and Steve knew better than to say it but the harpy was probably the most adorable person he’d ever met, “If you’re planning on helping me.”

“Of course, just a second,” He set the bowl and glass down on the side table and pulled the bottle of tylenol out of the drawer. With a hand to Tony's shoulder Steve helped him up as slow as he could. It was a bit of a struggle, because they also had to get the man’s legs under him. By the time he was settled, sitting with his feet on the ground, Tony was panting a little from the exertion of it. 

“Okay, here, have a drink.” He handed over a glass along with a couple of pills. Steve wrung out the washcloth and brought it up to Tony's face. The man flinched away before he could wipe his brow though. 

“Sorry, sorry. I was just trying to clean you up a little. Should have asked first.”

“Yes. You should have,” The harpy took the cloth and scrubbed his face with it, then his arms and across his chest. 

“If you want I could loan you some clothes? Your pants are in a sorry state,” The phrase ‘holding on by a thread’ came to mind.

“Harpies don’t really do shirts, but new pants I would gladly take, and five minutes alone to clean up in private. Sorry if you wanted to watch, but we’re just not that close yet.”

“Oh-” Steve couldn’t stop his face from going pink even though he had seen plenty of men in the buff. It really wasn’t a big thing anymore. But the implication that he would just be sitting there and watching as Tony ran a washcloth over his body, “Yeah, right. Here, you can have these. I’ll just go get you something to eat.”

He didn’t even bother to look at what pants he threw at Tony, just pulled a pair from one of the drawers built into the wall and beat a hasty retreat.

“And don’t bother cooking it either!” He heard Tony call after him. 

~~~

Steve was apparently a blusher. 

He had scared the man off and won himself a few minutes of peace and quiet. Tony reveled in the feeling of clean skin for the first time in months. He didn’t know quite how long it had been, but he’d tried to keep track. By his count, he had been held captive for just over three months. 

And now it was over. 

But it would never be over. Not really. He would never forget the feeling of leather straps holding his wings flat against a metal exam table. The feel of a wide bore needle against his elbow. He thought the helpless, hopeless, I’ll-never-get-out-of-here feeling would stay with him for the rest of his life. 

~~~

Steve busied himself with checking his traps and nets. He’d been planning to head back to shore tomorrow, he was pretty much at capacity. He would have to ask Tony how he felt about that. If he was too nervous about it, Steve could hold off a few days -- turn the refrigeration up a little more, and the fish would keep for a time. 

One way or another he would have to head back though, he couldn’t just let all that fish rot. While he was there, he would get a bed roll, because his back was less than happy with the blanket on the floor. 

Steve wasn’t sure what Tony preferred, so he brought a little bit of everything he’d caught, even the squid which he would normally throw back. He didn’t usually catch enough to bother with them. Tony might have said not to cook it (which Steve wasn’t going to argue with but would not be sampling himself) but he still boned and cleaned it all first. 

He had been gone a good twenty minutes, pulling in his nets. Steve was confident that Tony would be done cleaning up by now. He was not expecting to find Tony curled in on himself and shaking.

“Tony? Hey, what's wrong?” As he got closer, Steve started hearing the shuddering breaths he associated with crying. Tony had obviously been through something traumatic, but he couldn’t venture as to what that might be. Steve wanted to offer comfort -- about the only thing he could do -- but he didn’t want to spook the harpy or give touch where it was unwelcome, “Tony, can I touch you? Please talk to me.”

Tony opened up his arms, wordlessly inviting Steve in. Now that he had uncurled, Steve could see the tear tracks that rolled down Tony’s face. He dropped down to his knees and shuffled into Tony's arms. With as much care as he could, Steve wrapped his arms around Tony. The last thing Steve wanted was to jostle Tony’s wing or for the harpy to feel trapped.

“What is it?”

“It’s over,” He whispered, “It’s finally over.” 

Steve couldn’t begin to imagine what this man had been through, “That right, it’s over now. Let it out.” 

~~~

It took an embarrassingly long time for Tony to pull himself back together. He was drained, mentally, emotionally, and physically. And now he was here, weeping into the shoulder of a near-stranger instead of locked up in his little cell so small he couldn’t stretch his wings half-way. He still couldn’t actually, but Tony thought if he asked, Steve would bring him back to the deck for a good stretch. He didn’t feel like he was trapped in this room.

“Sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall apart like that.” Even so, he couldn’t help but lean into Steve’s strong arms. It had been so long since anyone touched him without malice and a complete disregard for his well-being.

“It looked like you needed it.”

“Yeah maybe,” What he needed was to heal his wing so he could get far far away. He didn’t think anyone would come looking, but he felt like he was far too close to the facility. He wouldn’t be happy until he was halfway across the globe. He wondered how fast this little boat could go...

~~~

Steve ran a comforting hand down Tony’s arms. The harpy looked like he had finally released the tension he’d been carrying. Steve wanted more than anything to help Tony feel safe enough to tell him what happened. He wished there was something else he could do to help this man. 

“Would you let me clean your wings for you? I could get another bowl of water…” Steve figured Tony could talk him through the process, but one way or another he would have to do something about them. There was down sticking up through all of the feathers that were supposed to lay flat and smooth to let the water roll off. He couldn’t imagine that was comfortable.

Tony gave him a long weighing look before finally nodding. 

“Ok, I’ll be right back. Oh! Here, I forgot about your breakfast,” Steve handed over the forgotten plate of fish,“Let me know what you like best.” 

~~~

Tony stared down at the plate Steve had left him with. He didn’t think Steve had any idea what he had just offered. Wing grooming was a bonding gesture between family or a courting pair.

It wasn’t meant that way, either way, but that didn’t stop him from blushing. It was very hard not to think that way as Steve passed over plates of fish and  _ squid _ . Actual deep sea squid. There weren’t many harpies strong enough or with the lung capacity to hunt squid like this. It was a show of devotion.

Between that and Steve wanting to groom his wings, well, it felt like his wires were getting crossed. He just had to remind himself that it didn’t mean anything to Steve, The man hadn’t even caught the fish himself, he’d used a net. To him this was just being friendly and caring for someone in need. Nice attributes in a mate, but that doesn’t mean a lot without intent.

Not that he was looking for a mate. 

Or interested in this human. 

But that  _ was _ the point of a pilgrimage, wasn't it? Finding yourself and exploring, places  _ and people, _ not that anyone ever said that part. It was an unspoken rule, really. Harpies mate for life, but before they chose their mate… well, anything was fair game. And he was still technically on his pilgrimage. Sure, it had been a little side-tracked with a truly horrible three months, but it looked to be getting back on track now. 

He focused on his food and tried to avoid intrusive thoughts. He was hoping that his blush would go away before Steve came back to groom his wings… and that was a solid no. He was blushing even more than before. 

How Tony would get through this grooming session was a mystery.

~~~

Tony still looked a little ruffled when he came back, his eyes were puffy and his face was red. Steve didn’t bother mentioning it. 

“So, I brought some more bandages. I figure I’ll clean out the wound, and then start on the feathers around it before I wrap it up again. I’m afraid you’ll have to talk me through it, I’ve never preened wings before,” Steve wasn’t even sure where to start really. He’d seen birds do it, of course, but he felt like the process must be a bit different when there was no beak involved…

“Right, yeah. First step is getting all the dirt off them,” Tony turned to look out the porthole, watching the clouds drift past. 

“After this, maybe you’d like a walk up on the deck?” He thought Tony would look beautiful under the afternoon sun.

He turned back to give Steve a look, “I can hardly stand.”

“Well, then we can just sit and watch the waves.”

“Sure. That’d be nice.” He gave Steve a little smile before looking back to the sky.

They were both quiet for a moment, but after a while Steve set his supplies down and shuffled over to the bed, “Did you want to kneel again? We could put a pillow down so it’s more comfortable.”

Tony nodded and sort of slid down the bed. Steve helped him get a pillow under him, while he tried not to think about how pretty Tony looked kneeling next to his bed.

The harpy settled his head into his arms. His good wing stretched out until it touched the wall, but it was still only half extended. Steve thought when he took away all the grime and got the feathers to lay flat, Tony’s wings would be breathtaking.

It was too early to tell really, but Steve was happy with how the wound was healing. It was cool to the touch and hadn’t started oozing any worrying liquids. The gap was too large to close though, about the size of a softball. He wished there was something he could do to fix it, but Tony would have to live with the hole.

When he did start running the wet towel over the feathers closest to the wound it changed color almost immediately, the feathers there were a rusty brown from the dried blood, and it was coming off in flakes and clumps even when the color stayed stubbornly. The feathers looked like they were usually white under the layer of dirt and blood, except for rows of black speckling and the solid black primaries and secondaries. Tony’s dip in the water hadn’t done much to clean them.

Steve tried to be gentle, but despite his best efforts Tony's wing was still shaking like a leaf, “I’m sorry, if it hurts too much just tell me and I’ll move on to the other wing.” 

He at least wanted to get the immediate area cleaned up, to stave off infection. Sitting down on the bed, Steve brought the wing into his lap to do the underside, which had even more dried blood. The feathers were stuck in big clumps that looked like they were pulling at each other uncomfortably. He carefully pressed the cloth against the worst of the mats hoping to soften them up a bit. When he turned to check on Tony, the man still had his head hidden in his arms, and he looked almost like he was holding his breath. 

“Tony? How ya holding up?” Steve was starting to get concerned when the man stayed silent. He ran his fingers through Tony’s hair, hoping that would get his attention. 

“Fine! I’m fine,” Tony said to his inner arm. 

“Alright, just let me get the rest of the blood out of your feathers and I’ll switch wings,” He wrung out the washcloth and made a face at the water that came away a greyish-brown. He would have to change it before he started on the other wing. It would probably take more than a few more water changes before he was finished. 

He used his fingers to gently pick the knots apart, the rest of Tony's wing was resting on his shoulder to keep it out of the way. It was like a little bubble of zen wrapped up in Tony's wing, with all of his concentration set to a simple task. 

~~~

Tony was going to die of embarrassment. He could feel his face burning off right now. Steve had his fingers in the marginal coverts on the underside of Tony’s injured wing, and was delicately preening all of the debris out of them. This was the first time anyone outside of his family had preened his wings for him. Hell, it was the first time since he started his pilgrimage more than a year ago that anyone but himself had preened them, and he was beginning to understand why it was only done between mates and courting pairs. 

Every gentle tug sent a shiver running through him. It took every bit of self control to keep from squirming, and he was actually biting the sheet beneath his head to keep from making any sound. 

If this was what it felt like with an uncomfortable undercurrent of pain, he didn’t know if he was going to be able to keep his problem under wraps when Steve moved on to the other wing. The problem being the direct line Steve seemed to have to his cock.

After Steve left to get more water, Tony tried to gather himself. He pressed the heel of his hand against his cock, hoping to bring himself a little relief, but it only made him that much more aware of the issue. 

Tony had to force himself to put his hand out of his pants and back on the bed when he heard Steve coming back. He hid his head in the safety of his arms again, hoping to hide his beet red face from Steve. 

“I”ll re-bandage your wing when we’re done cleaning, wouldn't want to wrap it wet after all,” Steve didn’t sound like he had any idea what this was doing to Tony. If he was very lucky, that was how it would stay. "Once they’re clean, what comes next?"

Oh God. Steve wanted to oil his wings. No, Steve had no idea what came next. If Tony said that was it, then this could all end so much sooner. But then he would have to try and do it on his own and more than likely Steve would ask to help anyway. 

“Let’s just get through this first,” Tony gritted his teeth, steeling himself for the feeling of Steve’s hands on his wings again. The back of his wing was thankfully less sensitive than the front, so he still had a bit of a reprieve from the intimate contact from a moment ago. Of course, it was just a lead up to what was coming. 

This didn’t mean anything to Steve. Tony had to keep reminding himself that it _wasn’t_ _intimate_ to Steve. His brain might know that, but his dick didn’t care what Steve’s motive was as long as those long nimble fingers kept working through his feathers.

It was another two water changes before Steve decided to move on. He sat next to Tony with a knee pressed into Tony’s side in what was probably supposed to be companionable and reassuring but was actually just incredibly tempting. 

Tony had to stop himself from leaning into it. It was everything that he was dreading. It felt perfect. His breath stuttered as Steve began working on the tangled down feathers that were poking through. The warm thigh against his side was tempting, it would be so easy to shift until he could rut against it. 

His cock was begging for release, and when Steve tugged just right he almost bucked forward into nothing.

“You tensed up. Did that hurt? I’m sorry,” Steve’s fingers pulled away from his wing and Tony finally lost his internal battle and let a whimper escape. “Tony?”

His shoulders came up to try and hide his bright red ears, and if his wing weren’t wrapped around Steve’s shoulder he would use it to cover his head even more. 

“It’s fine. You didn’t hurt me,” Tony should have let the sea swallow him up. 

“Could you look at me? Please,” Steve was going to be the death of him. The last thing he wanted was to make eye contact -- he was sure his pupils were lust blown, and his face was probably  _ glowing red  _ from the amount of heat he was giving off. 

As soon as their eyes met, Tony could see it all click in Steve’s head. If it were for any other reason, the dumbfounded look would have been hilarious, and Tony wished he could appreciate it. 

“Oh…” Steve breathed into the silence.

“Yeah...” There really wasn’t anything else to say. ‘Sorry for being inappropriately turned on by your innocent kindness?’ Tony wasn’t sure how that would go over.

“Is- do you… Should I finish, or would you like me to stop?” Steve had the prettiest rosy pink blush over the apples of his cheeks. 

“You really want to keep going?” Tony sat up straighter to give him a look of disbelief, “Even with all this?” He motioned to where his cock was tenting his pants.

“If you’ll let me,” He noted that Steve’s eyes wandered downward before returning to his face. Now that was interesting.

“I suppose it depends…” He gave a little smile that didn’t show the anxiety he was feeling. If he’d read this wrong it was going to be very awkward until he left this boat. 

“On what?”

“On how interested you are,” Tony ran a hand up Steve’s leg just to be sure there would be no miscommunications. 

~~~

Tony was staring up at Steve from his position on his knees, his hand creeping ever higher. Steve caught the hand before it could get far, “You know you don’t have to do this, right? My help isn’t conditional, I’ll help you no matter what.”

“That is a lovely sentiment, but I have been achingly hard pretty much since you started,” Steve couldn’t help but drop his eyes to Tony’s lap, taking in the proof of that statement. 

“You’re injured…” He pointed out like Tony could have somehow forgotten.

“I’m feeling much better and extremely horny. Listen, if you aren’t interested, just say so.” Tony started to withdraw, both literally and metaphorically.

Steve grabbed Tony’s hand before he could take it back.

“I never said that,” He was, in fact, extremely interested. Tony was beautiful, if a little on the thin side from whatever he’d been through. Steve wouldn’t mind being the one to help him bulk back up.

He cupped Tony’s cheek as he leaned down for a kiss. Their teeth clicked together when Tony jolted forward a little too enthusiastically. When they finally came up for air, Steve was grinning like a loon. Tony made these cute little mewling sounds into the kiss that tugged at his heart.

“Let me finish your wings,” He sat back to get a better view of the wing that was still thrown over his shoulder. 

Tony dropped his head back onto the bed with a huff, “Really?” 

“Really. I was enjoying it, they obviously need it,” He slipped a leg between Tony’s, “And you were  _ certainly  _ enjoying it.” 

Steve started finger combing through the feathers much more confidently, secure in the knowledge that he wasn’t hurting Tony. He reveled in the way the harpy rocked against his leg. “See, everyone’s having a good time here.”

“Steve,” Tony breathed his name out like a prayer. He worked his way steadily to the wing tips, cataloguing the reactions he got. The further out he got, the less sensitive the wing seemed to be. 

“So what comes next? Once they’re clean,” The feathers were still a bit ruffled, but he had gotten the worst of them to lay flat.

Tony gave a little whimper even though he wasn’t doing anything, “Next is oiling the feathers…” He was watching Steve from his position leaning on Steve’s leg.

“Okay, what sort of oil do we need?” Steve didn’t have a lot to choose from, just olive or canola.

“I’ve got uh-” Tony blushed a little and looked away, “I make my own…” 

“Okay,” He waited for Tony to pull out a bottle for him, that was assuming he had any with him.

After an awkward silence, Tony finally met his eyes again with that beautiful blush still dusting his cheeks, “I have an oil gland Steve.” 

~~~

Tony could see Steve work through what he’d said. Going from confused to more confused then back to something more neutral. 

“Show me?” Steve asked. 

There was something incredibly erotic about leading Steve’s hand down to the base of his spine where there was already oil beading up from the gland and dripping down to the band of his borrowed sweatpants. The feeling of fingers not his own working softly at the gland brought Tony rocking forward to brace against the leg that was still between his own. He clutched at Steve with both hands just to keep himself up right. That was unexpectedly intense. 

When the hand fell away, Tony tried to arch back into it but all he got was air. He opened his eyes in time to watch Steve bring his hand up to inspect his now slick fingers. The man sniffed them and went so far as to touch the tip of his tongue to sample the taste, “So do I just run this through your feathers?”

“Yes,” Tony had to clear his throat when it came out as a whisper, “Yes. It will take a while to work up the waterproofing again, so don’t worry about coating every feather.” 

“So we’ll have to do this again?” Steve asked with a smirk but didn’t give Tony a chance to answer him when he combed his fingers through the most sensitive part of Tony’s wing. He bit down to keep from moaning, not quite realizing that he wasn't against the bed anymore until Steve spoke again, “Are you biting me?”

“I- uh, sorry,” He hadn’t bitten down hard at least, it was just to give him something to focus on. 

Steve didn’t seem to be bothered at least. He had a smile on his face like he knew what he was doing to Tony and was very proud of it. 

He ran a thumb along Tony’s lower lip before he reached back down to rub at Tony’s gland again, it brought their faces just a breath apart. When Steve leaned in for another kiss, Tony had no chance of stopping the moan from the dual sensation of Steve kissing him and playing with his oil gland. He rocked into the man's leg and just let the sensations sweep through him. 

By the time Steve was satisfied with the level of oil on his wings, Tony was a whimpering, twitching mess. 

“Lay on the bed for me Tony, on your belly,” Steve’s voice had a rumble to it that sent another shiver through him. Steve helped him situate his bad wing into a good position, Steve was so careful it didn't even twinge when he re-bandaged it. 

His hands dropped to Tony's hips, “Can I take these off?”

“Yes, gods, finally! Please,” He lifted his hips as much as he could, so ready to have Steve touch him after the longest foreplay of all time. Steve took his sweet time pulling the pants down Tony’s legs, and then running his hands back up the newly revealed skin. 

“Mmm, just look at you. So eager. Can I have you?” Steve ran a teasing finger up to his entrance. 

Tony arched back into it, hungry for any touch that might bring him closer, “Please, please, please,” He chanted into the pillow.

Steve brought his other hand higher up to milk at his oil gland again -- it was enough to make him scream from the oversensitivity. There was a shallow pool of oil gathering in the hollow of his back, Steve ran his fingers through it, and Tony realized that he was going to be opened up with his own oil. The thought sent a flash of heat through his gut.

He wanted to rise up to his knees to give Steve better access, but a hand pressed his hips back to the mattress -- it also specifically pressed his dick into the mattress but when he tried to rock into the feeling Steve held tight. Tony whined in frustration. He was going to say something, but Steve chose that moment to press a finger into him, and anything he might have said turned into wordless keening.

“There you go, that’s what you needed, isn’t it Tony,” Steve didn’t seem to be expecting a reply because he didn't stop, one finger turning into two, which turned into three. 

Tony might have thought he was a wanton mess before, but it had nothing on this.

~~~

Steve had one of the most bewitching people he had ever seen writhing on his bed, debauched was a fantastic look on Tony. With every press of Steve’s fingers into Tony’s body the harpy would thrust back onto them, greedy for more. 

He was contemplating adding a fourth finger, but he would be denying himself too, and Steve was almost out of patience. Tony was more than ready, open and slick with oil from the little gland on his back that Steve would have mistaken for a mole if Tony hadn’t told him otherwise. 

Steve finally let Tony rise up onto his knees, but he pressed a hand to the man’s upper back when he tried to raise up higher. The last thing Steve wanted was for Tony to put a strain on his injured wing. 

He only took a moment to admire the sight of Tony’s beautiful round behind, glistening with oil and presented just for him, before Steve sank in so slowly. He slid home easily, and was surrounded by Tony’s heat. 

He tried to hold still so Tony had a chance to adjust, but it seemed like the harpy had other plans, rocking back on Steve’s cock as far as he could from his position. 

“Please fuck me. Fuck me. Can’t wait anymore. I need it! Please Steve,” Tony pleaded, still working his hips beautifully on Steve’s cock. 

Who was Steve to deny someone when they asked so nicely?

~~~

Tony was not above begging. He felt particularly shameless with his ass in the air and Steve taking his sweet time to do anything. He wasn’t expecting it to actually get him anywhere though, which was why it took his breath away when Steve started up a rhythm that pushed him a little further up the bed with each thrust, until he finally braced himself with a hand against the wall. 

“Gods yes. Steve! Don’t stop,” Tony couldn’t help the little mewls that were punched out of him every time Steve brought their hips together again. 

The man seemed determined to drive Tony insane with pleasure, because he brought a hand up to drag through the tender parts of Tony’s wing. 

Steve gave a light tug of his feathers, and the added sensation against the oversensitized skin sent Tony tumbling over the edge into his release after what felt like hours of teasing. Steve fucked him through it, drawing it out until Tony thought he couldn’t stand it any more. Just as he was starting to think it was too much, Steve rocked into him one last time and moaned his pleasure into Tony’s back. 

Tony was still trying to catch his breath when Steve got out of the bed and grabbed the water bowl. He wanted to tell the man to stay, but at the same time Tony was feeling rather sticky. Before he could make up his mind one way or another, Steve was already gone to get fresh water. 

Morpheus was trying to pull him down to sleep when Tony felt a warm cloth swipe down his back. He tried to be helpful as Steve carefully cleaned him up, but the man didn’t seem to mind his sluggishness. 

Tony thought the little smile on Steve’s face made him look even more gorgeous, it said happy and content. And Tony was the one that put it there. He smiled back when Steve noticed him watching, “What do you say to a little afternoon sun bathing? I’ll take you above deck, come back to clean the sheets, and then we can have lunch in the sunshine.”

“As long as you carry me there, I don’t care,” He lifted his arm to be picked up. Tony could probably make it up to the deck on his own -- he was feeling much better now that he’d had a bit of rest and some food -- he just didn’t want to. 

“I think I can manage that,” Steve was probably humoring him, but Tony was entirely fine with that. He was gathered up into those ridiculously strong arms, he settled his head on one shoulder and wrapped his wing and both legs around the man. The feeling of gloriously naked skin against skin was perfect, and Tony would be more than happy to stay in this moment forever. 

~~~

Steve set his guest delicately on the deck by the railing facing the water, so he could lean against it and keep weight off his wing. He left one last lingering touch against Tony’s right wing before he stood back up, “I’ll be right back.”

“Ok,” Tony looked to be completely distracted by the sun and the breeze, his good wing was stretched out to its full length and Steve could only stare. He had been wrong, it was closer to twelve feet than ten of blindingly white feathers. With a wingspan like that, the only species he could really compare it to was an albatross. 

Steve didn’t want to turn away, but he forced himself to go back and change the sheets, practically ripping them off the bed. He made record time making the bed again, only having to reset the fitted sheet twice. 

He grabbed a box of crackers, two apples, and a block of cheese and started for the deck before he thought better of it and picked out a few nice looking fish from his morning catch. 

Tony was right where Steve had left him, slowly stretching his wing to work the muscles. Steve could spend forever watching the elegant harpy take in the sunshine against the railing of his boat. 

“Lunch?” He settled down on Tony’s bad side so he wouldn’t get in the way of his stretches. 

Unsurprisingly, Tony went for the catch of the day, completely ignoring the far more appetizing cheese and crackers. He watched Tony suck down the squid whole, which was equal parts fascinating and disgusting. He couldn’t begin to guess what had made Tony blush, but his own was because of how easily that squid slid right down the harpies throat. 

Steve bit into his apple, he would save that thought for another time. There was something more important that he needed to talk about, “So, I’m going to have to head back to shore soon. To sell the fish,” He wasn’t sure how Tony was going to feel about that. 

“And what does that mean for me?” He could see the man looked tense, but it wasn’t a full blown panic. 

“It doesn’t have to mean anything. You can stay in my bedroom below deck if it makes you more comfortable. We don’t even have to dock for more than a couple of hours. Just long enough to make the sale and get supplies.” Steve tried to be reassuring, he didn’t have the story on what Tony went through but he knew the harpy escaped from somewhere. The last thing he wanted was for Tony to feel like he might go back to that.

He could see the tension bleed back out of Tony’s form, “Would you mind if I kept the door locked?”

“Whatever you need to feel safe,” He tried to show how adamant he was, “You could barricade the door for all I care.”

Steve could see Tony thinking about it, coming to terms with the idea, “When would we leave?”

“First think in the morning. I’ll wake you up when we get close so you can lock yourself in,” There were a bunch of things he’d have to do while he was at port. Not the least of which was explaining to his friends why he was heading straight back out. He was sure he’d only get away with it once. 

“Steve?” Tony waited until he looked, Steve took his hand and gave it an encouraging squeeze, “Thank you.”

“I just did what anyone else would have done.”

“You have to know that isn’t true. Just take the thanks,” Tony brought their linked hands to his lips for a kiss. 

“Yes, fine, you’re welcome. Happy now?” 

“Very,” He let Tony tug him closer and brought their lips together for a playful kiss. He nipped at the harpy’s lips and dove back in for another peck. 

“Is there something you’d like me to get for you while I’m ashore?” He'd make a supply list tonight and add anything Tony might want.

Tony bit at his lip like he wasn’t sure if he should actually ask. Steve gave him an encouraging nod. “Would you bring me something pretty?”

“I can do that,” He liked the pleased little grin on Tony's face, he hoped whatever he found would get the harpy to smile like that again. 

As they sat and watched the waves, Steve felt Tony’s hand find his again. He held on as tight as he dared -- albatrosses were good luck after all. 


End file.
